Saturday, March 13, 2010

such poetry greatness in two weeks?!

Saw Buddy Wakefield* this week (though seeing him at the Nuyo was better, crowd was better, he's AMAZING!) and now... Anis Mojgani :]

so, yeah... i'm gonna see him perform soon. excited!

and Over the Anvil We Stretch is a great book of poetry.

*And if you don't know who Buddy Wakefield is, get it together and look him up on YouTube.

Buy a book, buy a CD from either/both of them. It will  be great :]

Friday, March 12, 2010

Things that give me hope:

1. Hill Harpers’ “Letters to a Young Sister: DeFINE Your Destiny” I don’t care if I found it in college, it is a beautiful book, gesture and effort. Hill Harper is the man. (haven't even thought about that in a while, but i read it a summer or two ago)
2. Professors (and teachers in the past) that actually care about me as a student, and a person.
3. Friends. Family. The people who are here now, and the ones that will come and I will give a chance to matter/place in my heart and will appreciate it.
4. Poetry. Words. Shared revelations, heartbreaks, I could go on for a while. Suffice it to say, not being alone.
5. Music. *sigh*
6. People doing what they love because they know there’s no other way for them to live fully.
7. Being myself. You being yourself. Us, practicing, being our true selves regardless of how many people/things/whatever that want to take ourselves from us. And even when we take ourselves from us.
8. Wanting to fix things that are broken. Just the desire to, and the people that are willing to help put it back together.
9. Random conversations, meetings/encounters, blessings.
10. Being proven wrong about negative perceptions/beliefs/truths that I hold, enforce and see life through sometimes.
11. The Bible, actually. And, the Love that I believe that God has for me and for everyone. How I’m learning to define it, and how it doesn’t hate/exclude anyone. And how unfathomable that can be, but I’m learning.
12. Sometimes, it’s not too late.
13. License to tell my truth, even if it only lasts for a moment, even if it’s only my truth for a moment and knowing that I’m not losing anything but releasing. The people that allow me this, and don’t judge me/write me off.
The list goes on…
14. Learning to show love and appreciation, without feeling like I'm losing some mystery or power that can't be regained.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

a little discomfort.

I keep doing this really weird thing where I call myself a poet. I’m comfortable with saying writer now, after several years, but for some reason poet is just a whole ‘nother strange jumping out of my mouth often without thinking. Not to my knowledge, it’s become this truth. Weird! Okay, I write poems- have for a while. But it’s a whole ‘nother thing calling myself a poet. Not sure why it’s different from writer. Maybe there’s a certain cockiness I worry that comes with it. I’m afraid of the stigma, but more than that when I say this people will attach certain attributes and accountabilities to me… ugh. Cause I’m going through this phase right now for uh… so, the last 20 years of my life.. well maybe more like ten, where I’m always majority writing “ooh boy” or “ugh boy/man” poems. I’m fully aware of it. That shit is hella wack to me sometimes. I get mad at myself for it, challenge myself to do different every once and while but, it’s always in there somehow. And I don’t know what that means. But what I’m saying is that, I’m not writing the revolution. Not really even a love revolution, makes me feel guilty. Like when I say poet, I should mean I’m changing lives or something, like I should be inspiring revolt, helping to fix something. Like it’s not sufficient that right now the something is just myself, and whoever else can relate. Weird, but I’m pretty comfortable with that. It’s always been me first, the only time I really let I be, completely and freely. It’s mine, these couple of words, and arrangements, and confessions, and maybes and an if, and fantastics of emotion in instants so true and so temporary, unless they’re lasting and I mean them for whiles, good ones, sometimes. But when I write I release, and I clear and that’s all it ever is, and trying to do more is contrived and edits should only be to tell the truth better. Someday I’m sure I will write things, big things, international things, human hunger things, race things, gender things, less subversive things… mmhm, sure, but I’m not there yet. And I don’t always know what I’m doing. Who really knows what I’m writing, and who I may be touching. Because I’m thinking if what I write gets me or you through a certain part of the day I’m doing something right. I should only write what I know (and what I won’t allow myself to know, deep down) anyway, right?

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

sue me.

i'm just gonna write the first couple quotes from love songs that i've been thinking about tonight.

walking through campus "God Bless You, you make me feel brand new. For God's blessed me with you." And, I couldn't think of the rest of the lyrics just those. The Stylistics are from Philly. Woot. M-effin. Woot. Mmhm.

"If you've never been in love/and you're longing for the happiness it brings/try your wings."
i actually need to "try my wings" in a number of different realms. great way to say, "task a risk, use what you got."

"i'm coming home to you/wear something see through/so i can see your heart"
-"Still Ray," Raphael Saadiq

and as i've quoted many a time

"Color my heart/Color my heart/make it restart/make it restart."

that is all. i need to take my behind to bed.